


Cemetery Blues

by miss_grey



Series: What We Do In The Dark [54]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Creepy, Dogs, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hunters & Hunting, Premonitions, Serial Killers, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Witches, confidential informants, graphic depictions of crime scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22035031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: Joe Liebgott definitely knew that life as a hunter wouldn't be a glamarous one.  But ever since officer Anna Chiwy saved his life and introduced him to the world of the supernatural, he'd embraced it.  After all, what more did a man need besides his car, his dog, a couple good friends, and a mission?  Things were great.  Really.That is, of course, until a mysterious new evil arrives in San Francisco, threatening everything that Joe loves.
Relationships: Joseph Liebgott & Anna (Augusta), Joseph Liebgott & Maddie the Dog
Series: What We Do In The Dark [54]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1366063
Comments: 51
Kudos: 52





	1. Fuckin' Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Alright folks, here's another spin-off. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, Maddie is inspired by a converstion with Lysel, so thanks for that :)

Three Years Ago

“Fuck,” Joe cursed, scuffing his muddy boots off on the grass. He frowned down at himself, realizing he was covered in it. Also, it hadn’t stopped raining. “Well, this…sucks.” He huffed, swiping his rain-drenched hair out of his face. The empty grave behind him was a smoldering mess now, full of wet ashes and sloppy, slippery mud. He’d had to drag himself out of the hole after the angry spook had shoved him in as a last attempt to take him out. Joe had flicked salt in its face, dragged himself out of the hole, then chucked the matches in. Luckily, the fire had taken hold before the rain had come down in earnest. Now, though, it was a soggy mess, he was exhausted, and his clothes (his favorite boots, damn it) were covered in thick mud. Still, if he got going now, he’d have time to sack out for a few hours before he hit the road again.

He was picking his way through the uneven rows of headstones when he heard it. He paused, cocking his head and squinting through the rain. Another soft whine. “What the hell?” Another whine, long and low and mournful. Joe felt a shiver go up his spine and he reached into his boot for his knife, unsure of what he might find.

The rain was coming down harder now and the wind was picking up. His muddy clothes clung to him and his skin prickled with goosebumps. The whining grew louder, more insistent, as he drew nearer to a sprawling willow tree that fanned out over some of the oldest graves. “Who’s there?” Joe called, palming his knife, “Is someone hurt?”

Suddenly, movement and a dark shadow at the base of the tree caught his eye. Joe frowned, unsure of what he was seeing. But then the creature turned toward him, its nose snuffling pitifully, and it whined again. “Hey, little guy,” Joe said, relaxing his shoulders and re-sheathing his knife, “What are you doing out here all by yourself?” He approached, slowly, hands out, and then knelt next to the dark, soaking-wet puppy. “Come here.” He held his hands out and the little bundle of wet fur tripped over its own feet towards him. “Yeah, come here.” Joe picked it up—it was light, wet, and cold, shivering in his arms. He stood and cast his gaze around the dark, abandoned cemetery. There wasn’t another soul in sight, human or animal. “Who do you belong to, huh?” The puppy whined and nuzzled against Joe’s chest. “Yeah, alright, we’ll figure it out later. Let’s get out of here.”

So, with the puppy cradled in his arms, Joe double timed back to his car. He secured the puppy on his wet jacket in the passenger seat, slipped into the driver’s seat, and took off.

* * *

Back at the motel, Joe shucked his wet, muddy clothes as soon as he was through the door, unlacing his boots with trembling fingers. The puppy huddled in his jacket on the floor, casting strangely bright, baleful eyes up at him. “Give me a sec,” Joe mumbled, as he pulled his boots off and set them next to the door. “Ugh,” he groaned, standing, “that fuckin’ ghost bruised me,” he grumbled, feeling the twinge in his back. “Alright, let’s see what we can do for you.” He crouched to scoop the puppy into his arms then carried it into the bathroom with him. He flicked the light on then spun the shower knob to warm. As the water began to pour, Joe caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Face pale, speckled in mud, bruises scattered across his back and torso. He rolled his eyes. _Stupid fuckin’ ghost._ But then he focused his attention on the dog again, which was still shivering in his arms. “Gonna get you cleaned up,” Joe promised.

He’d expected the dog to protest the shower, but it actually relaxed under the spray, content to stand next to him while he cleaned himself off. After, he squirted some motel shampoo into his hand and lathered up the puppy’s fur, washing a bucket of mud down the drain before he was done. 

Out of the shower, with a towel wrapped perfunctorily around his waist, he couldn’t help grinning at the puppy as he ran a towel over its fur. Now that it was clean, he could see that the dog was actually black, with a single white spot on one eye. After he’d dried the puppy, he allowed it to curl up on the bed while he dressed, pulling a white t-shirt and some boxers on before he opened the mini fridge and dug through it, looking for something edible. “Bet you’re hungry, huh?” he called. Thankfully, he had a burger and fries left over from the day before. They were cold, but he’d eaten worse things in his time. Returning to the bed, Joe pulled the meat from the bun and began to break it into little pieces. The dog stood from its spot and came to perch next to him, tail wagging, whining again. “Wonder how long it’s been since you ate,” Joe murmured, feeding small bites to the puppy that took it with sharp little teeth and a tongue that licked Joe’s fingers. He grinned and couldn’t help laughing as the dog pawed at him for more. Joe shoved a cold fry in his mouth and grimaced before swallowing. “So, what am I gonna do with you?” He asked.

The puppy pawed at him again then flopped over, rolling in the blankets and baring its belly. Joe ran his fingers through the puppy’s thick, damp fur. His bed was gonna smell like wet dog now, but he couldn’t make himself care too much. “Seriously, how’d you end up out there on your own, girl?” He asked. “I know someone’s gotta be missing you.”

As he continued to pet her, the puppy fell asleep and Joe couldn’t help thinking that maybe it was fate. Maybe, for the first time in a long time, the Powers That Be had decided to do something nice for him for a change. He’d been alone for so long. Maybe….

The puppy snuggled closer in sleep and Joe knew, before he ever flicked off the light, that he was keeping the puppy.


	2. Wendigos Suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendigos fucking suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT a chronological story, in case you were wondering.

Present

“Here you go, sweetheart,” Joe murmured, feeding Maddie one of her favorite chicken treats. She perched in her bed in the shotgun seat, munching away, tongue lolling after she’d finished. Joe scratched behind her ears and cooed “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” And she was. The best girl. He trailed his fingers through her black coat, flicking away bits of dirt and leaf litter. Her paws were covered in mud up to the ankles. She needed a bath. They both did, actually.

They’d pulled off at a rest area on the outskirts of Mendocino National Forest when Joe’s body had started shaking from exhaustion. He was sore and dirty and the slash on his upper arm which he’d bandaged hastily with his (admittedly lacking) first aid kit probably needed stitches. He knew he should walk over to the bathrooms and clean it properly, do his best at stitching it on his own if he could (damn awkward angles) but there was something he needed to do before he could clean up or pass out, whichever happened to come first. They’d been in the forest for three days now with no cell service.

Joe squinted against the glare of the rising sun as he flipped open his cell phone and pressed the first name in his contacts. As the phone rang, he relaxed back into the driver’s seat, stretching his legs as far as they’d go in the compartment. He groaned. God, wendigos fucking sucked.

The phone rang twice before a sharp, harried voice said “Lieb. What the hell? It’s been three days. Where are you?”

Joe smirked and closed his eyes. “Well hello to you too, sweetheart.”

“Don’t sweetheart me, where are you?”

“I’m fine, Anna, calm down. We’re just outside of Mendocino. Finally got cell service.”

“What happened?”

“Wendigo. I took care of it.”

“Do you need clean up?”

“Uh…maybe? I torched the sucker pretty good, but I didn’t stick around to find out how much of it was left. But, uh… we found bodies. Three of ‘em.”

“Damn it.”

“Yeah. Think they were the campers that went missing. Two young men and a woman. College kids, right?”

Anna sighed, and she sounded exhausted, defeated, just like she did every time there was a casualty, like she was responsible for every single one. “Alright, I’ll pass the info along. You far enough away?”

“Give me a few hours, huh? I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“You said you were fine!”

“I am. Mostly. Look, it’s just that Maddie and I have been up for the last two days. Wasn’t safe enough to sleep. And the thing took a swing at me.”

“Do you need medical attention?”

Joe shrugged, even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “Nothing I can’t handle myself.”

“Let me guess…patching yourself up in a truck stop?”

Joe glanced to the side where he could see the rest area bathrooms and huffed a laugh. “Something like that.”

“You shouldn’t do this alone, Lieb.”

“I’m not alone.” Joe said, reaching out to pet Maddie again. She’d settled down in her bed, dark fur soft against his fingers. She was exhausted too.

“I meant someone who could use a phone. Or patch you up if you needed it.”

Joe shrugged, uncomfortable for a moment. “Worried about me?” He grinned into the phone.

“No.” Anna insisted, though they both knew it was a lie.

“Maddie’s better than any other partner, anyway.” Joe insisted. “You know she’s…different.” Anna sighed, long and low. Joe knew the conversation was over at that point. No one could argue about Maddie. The line went silent but Joe knew Anna hadn’t hung up on him. Not this time, at least. “We’ll be headed back to the city after I get a few z’s.”

Now her voice was all business again, any hint of worry erased. “You guys need a place to crash?”

Joe glanced down at the mud streaked across his clothes and huffed. “Yeah, that’d be nice, actually.”

“Alright. See you guys tonight, then.”

“Thanks, Anna.”

Joe tossed his phone onto the dash and patted Maddie once more before he popped his door open and hauled himself out of the car. Better to clean the wound now rather than risk infection. Who knew what the hell kind of diseases wendigos carried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anna! :D


	3. The Hell is a Ghoul?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Joe....

4 Years Ago

Joe flicked a wave at his passenger as the young woman crossed the street into the apartment building on the corner. After she’d made it into the building, Joe glanced at the time on the meter. It was late. Almost midnight. He was tired as hell and he was unlikely to get much more tonight aside from the usual crowd inevitably thrown out once the bars closed. Still, he thought about his roommate back at their apartment, probably loudly making out with his girlfriend and Joe figured another fare tonight wouldn’t hurt, and it might buy him some sanity in the long run. 

Mind made up, Joe headed toward the closest bars and was happy to see there were only a couple other taxi cabs in the neighborhood. He pulled up to the curb and idled his yellow Crown Victoria, waiting for a customer. In the flickering glare of a streetlight, Joe reached over and popped the glove compartment to pull out his book; Joe knew that pulp mysteries weren’t exactly high literature, but he figured they were a quick read that kept him from losing his mind on slow nights, and so what if they were his guilty pleasure?

He was ten pages into chapter 4 (the handsome detective had just met the damsel in distress) and Joe rolled his eyes just as a knock came at the cab window. Joe hastily closed the book and tossed it onto the passenger seat before glancing back to see a man pulling the door open. 

Joe wrinkled his nose at his passenger—the guy was wearing a black long-sleeve shirt and jeans, but they were dirty, stained, and the guy smelled fucking terrible. Like…dirt and garbage and a sickly sweet smell that nearly had Joe gagging. Rot. That’s what that smell was. Joe’s hands tightened on the wheel and he forced himself to take a breath through his mouth in an attempt to remain professional. “Where to?” The guy was a mess, but Joe wasn’t about to kick him out of the cab. Joe thought that he might be homeless, or in need of some help and while Joe was far from a hero, he tried not to be too much of an asshole if he could help it.

The guy grunted, his head rolling toward Joe and his eyes were cloudy, vacant. _Strung out on something pretty bad._ “Brooks Park, Ingleside,” he grunted.

“Right.” Joe shifted the cab into drive and made his way across the city. Ingleside definitely wasn’t the best part of town, but it was gonna be a decent fare, so he decided to keep his trap shut and just drive. After this, he was gonna grab some food and head home. He was fucking exhausted.

The drive was quiet with the exception of some light wheezing from the backseat. Every so often, Joe flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror, but just looking at the guy sort of gave him the creeps. The smell was overwhelming after just a couple minutes, so Joe cracked the window. At this point, he didn’t give a fuck if the guy was offended. Joe felt nauseous.

They were about ten minutes from their destination when the guy started groaning and shifting around. Joe glanced in the mirror. “Hey buddy, you alright back there?”

Another groan. “Hungry.”

Joe focused on the road for a moment, then dared another glance in the mirror. “Almost there, alright?”

“Hungry,” the guy moaned piteously and Joe felt chills rise along his arms.

“Yeah, just…just hold on, alright? We’re almost there.”

“Hungry,” the guy moaned, his mouth falling open and a dark liquid dribbled out. 

“What the fuck?!” Joe shouted, just as the guy lurched forward, hands scrabbling for Joe. Sharp, dirty fingernails clawed at his arm and his neck. Dank, moist, grave-scented breath huffed over his neck, and the guy moaned in Joe’s ear. Joe screamed, panicked, and jerked away from the guy. Frantic, he flicked his eyes to the mirror and saw that the guy’s mouth was wide, gaping, full of black teeth, and the guy lunged again.

“Fuck!” Joe yanked away from the guy, jerked the wheel in his attempt to escape, panicked at the slide of the tires, and tried to correct the cab’s course. He fixed his eyes, frantically, on the street in front of him, and the last thing he saw was the soft, golden glow of the street light before the cab smashed into it.

* * *

Anna rubbed a hand over the back of her neck, trying to work the stress out of the tense muscles. The clock on her dash read 1:00 am. God, she hated this shift. After she’d finished her tour for the day, she’d spent hours at her desk filling out paperwork and organizing case files for the next day. She was exhausted and sore from chasing after the mugger she and her partner, Hernandez, had come across right after their lunch break. The guy had thought he’d get away by jumping a fence and dashing through a restaurant, but Anna had pursued him. The bastard had thrown a chair at her. She’d dodged it, but stumbled into another and it sucked. Just another day on the beat. Sometimes she wondered why in the world she’d decided to become a cop. 

Home was so close, a couple miles away tops, when she saw it: an older model yellow cab had smashed into a light pole and even from a distance, Anna could see bodies and the sparkle of broken glass. She reached for the alarm switch before she remembered she was in her own SUV, not her service vehicle. “Shit,” she said, pulling over behind the cab. She only took enough time to put her vehicle in park and check the gun on her hip before she leapt from the driver’s seat and jogged over to the cab. 

Shattered glass littered the scene and the cab’s entire front was bent around the light pole, which now stood at an angle. A man sat, slumped, in the front seat, blood smeared across his brow and the window. The windshield was destroyed, shattered, coated in blood. Anna made her way cautiously to the front of the car and found a second body, beheaded in the crash. Her heart stuttered and she rushed back to the driver-side window, where she could see the other man bent over the wheel. No airbag. _Shit._ She pulled at the handle and thankfully the door creaked open. The man’s hand fell limply at his side. Anna took a calming breath and checked the man for a pulse. _Still alive. Thank God._ She reached for her phone, mind already rehearsing what she’d say to the emergency operator, when she stopped, finally realizing something that she should’ve before now. She glanced down at her hands. They were fine. Not even a tingle. In fact…everything was calm, steady. Too calm. She swallowed thickly, eyes going wide, and she took a step back from the cab. _Fuck._

She pulled her gun from its holster at her hip and made her way back to the front of the cab where the headless body lay. Before she even reached it, she caught the scent and gagged. _Death. Decay._ This wasn’t new death. That body had been dead for a while. Still gripping her gun, she knelt next to the body and prodded it with a finger. She jerked away, gasping and coughing, when she realized what the thing was. _Ghoul._ She turned back to the guy in the driver’s seat. Definitely human. Suddenly, she could imagine what must’ve happened and she was gripped with a choice. One she’d rarely had to make before, and one she didn’t relish. If she called this in, the detectives would be baffled by the dead body ( _Ghoul!_ ) and once they realized it’d been dead for a while, this poor schmuck would be on the line for murder (which she realized was terribly ironic.) On the other hand….

Anna huffed, squaring her shoulders, and she took the chance of leaning the man’s head back from the wheel so she could get a look at him. Young, early 20s, white male, 5’8”-5’9”, 150 lbs. Alive. She laid her hands on him and whispered a quick spell, hoping to hell she wasn’t about to paralyze him for the rest of his life. She used all of her strength to pull him from the wreck, but his body was lanky, dead weight, awkward in her arms. His legs dropped, leaden, to the ground, and she winced. She laid him down for a moment and assessed him. Bleeding from a head wound, black eye and bruising from the impact, scratches on his arms. She knelt next to him and laid a hand on his forehead, whispering frantically under her breath. 

His eyes, pupils uneven, flickered open and he groaned. “Hey,” Anna whispered, “hey, I need you to stay awake, alright?” The man whimpered and Anna felt a wave of protectiveness wash through her. “You’re gonna be okay, alright, but I need you to help me. Okay?” Another moan. “I need you to stand if you can, alright? We need to get you into the passenger seat. Can you do that?”

The man moaned but he tried to push himself up, wobbling as he did so.

“Alright, good. Yes. Hold on.” She grabbed his hand and helped to pull him shakily to his feet. He tipped and nearly bowled her over before she got a steadying arm around him. “Okay, good. Just…a couple steps. Right here, come on.” She led him to the passenger seat of her SUV and after a few awkward attempts, she managed to help him clamber in. After she’d slammed the door behind him, she slumped against the side of the SUV, wondering just what in the hell she was doing. It wasn’t her business. She could just leave him. She could. It’d be easier. Simpler. But….

She climbed into the driver’s seat and put the SUV in drive. Home was only a couple miles away.


	4. Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been less than 12 hours and Anna is already tired of Joe's bullshit.

Anna jerked awake, her heels slamming into the floor as she rocked forward in her recliner. Her nightmares—still swarming in her brain, climbing under her skin, settling behind her eyes—followed her into wakefulness. Her heart pounded and her breath came in gasps, just like every single morning. _A man, semi-automatic rifle in hand, shouting “Everyone down! I said now, goddamnit, or someone’s gonna die!” A little girl, riding her bike, while a brown van pulled up too close to her. Two young men, knives drawn, lunging at each other, and there was already so much blood._

Anna shivered and her hands tingled; she felt nauseous and shaky and her brain was full of buzzing. 

It had always been this way, ever since she was a little girl. She saw things. Or…dreamed them, most of the time. Things that were bound to happen. Terrible things. Always terrible things. She hadn’t had a single night without nightmares for as long as she could remember. They were always different: murder, assault, robbery, kidnappings, overdoses. She always saw them, and then within a few days, they happened.

She was lucky that her family had a legacy of…well, whatever it was. Her mother said it was like having one foot in and one foot out. They all straddled the line between here and there, and they occasionally tiptoed through the _unknown._ Her cousin Sonia was a witch. Her mother was an empath. Her grandmother had channeled spirits. 

She was lucky. Her family’s knowledge, their acceptance, had spared her psychiatrists and institutions, ostracization and humiliation. But their understanding could not spare her the dreams. Premonitions.

Every single night. She saw it all. Well… not quite all. 

As Anna had grown and learned more about her…curse, she’d learned that the things she saw at night and occasionally during her waking hours were destined to happen. She merely got a warning. One that she bore the burden of but had no power to act on. She held terrible knowledge, about horrific things. With one exception.

Anna never dreamt about the supernatural. No witches, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, or, well… _ghouls._ It was like there was a void within her, a switch that was flicked off every time one of those creatures was involved. Whenever she was on the same track as one of her dreams, she started to get the shakes, or nausea, or a headache, or tingly hands. Every single time. But if she came near to something supernatural…well. Nothing. No warning of any kind.

She cast her gaze to the young man who lay sprawled on her couch. That’s how she’d been able to tell, last night. At the scene of such a gruesome wreck, she’d felt nothing. There had been a…a void. She frowned and glanced at the clock. It had been a couple hours since the last time she’d woken him and he was due again.

She walked quietly into her kitchen to refill a glass of water then returned to the living room. She set the glass on her chipped coffee table and regarded the man for a moment. She’d cleaned and bandaged his head the night before and then she’d helped him to stretch out on her pretty blue couch (which he’d probably bled on.) He was lanky, skinny, and his face and chest were covered in bruises. He should be in the hospital—she knew that. He had a concussion and maybe something worse. But she knew that if she took him in now, he’d get pinned with the death of that ghoul. And last night, the moment she’d decided not to dial 911, she’d taken responsibility for his life. For better or worse.

She’d never been particularly adept at spells. She remembered lessons as a teenager with Sonia and her cousin’s exasperated huffs, “ _Augusta, you must focus. You must! If you don’t want what a spell can grant you, then you will not have it.”_ And so she, teenaged _Augusta,_ had learned that she would not have what a spell could grant her. Except in the most extreme circumstances. Last night, she seemed to have wanted this man alive enough that he’d survived her awkward handling of him and he’d made it in one piece to her couch. 

She braced her hands on her hips and frowned down at him. _What the hell am I gonna do with him, now?_ It was time to wake him, again. Maybe this time he’d remain conscious. Maybe he’d ask questions. And then what? She knew that if he decided to make a fuss about it, she could lose her job. She could be arrested. Not only had she not called in the accident, she had tampered with a crime scene and endangered this man’s life. _Maybe I don’t have to tell him I’m a cop._ She weighed the consequences of either choice and decided honesty was probably the best course of action. Besides, she didn’t want him flipping out over the gun that she still wore on her hip.

Sighing, she crouched enough that she could gently shake him awake. He groaned and opened bleary brown eyes. He stared at her, brows pulled down in confusion for a moment, before he moaned in pain again and pressed a hand to his forehead. 

“Can you hear me?” Anna asked.

He tried to nod but then winced and seemed to think better of it.

“What happened?” He croaked, voice scratchy.

“You were in a car accident. Do you remember?”

A frown tugged at his lips. “No.”

Anna huffed but tried to remain patient. “What’s your name?”

The man stared up at her. “Who are you?”

She folded her arms. “Asked you first.” He pressed his lips together, stubborn, and Anna supposed she couldn’t blame him. “You have a concussion. I need to ask you some questions.”

“Joe.” He mumbled. When Anna quirked a brow, he huffed and closed his eyes. “Liebgott.”

“Joe Liebgott, I’m Anna Chiwy.”

“Where am I?”

Anna bit her lip. He jumped right to the difficult questions, didn’t he? “You’re in my home.”

“What?!” He yelped. He tried to sit up, but his head wobbled on his shoulders and he flopped back over again, groaning at the pain. “God, I feel like I’m dying.” His face went pale and then “Oh God, I’m gonna…!” Anna shoved the bucket under his face just as he rolled over and heaved, spitting up again. He’d done it twice the night before as well. She frowned at him and pressed her hand to his forehead. He was shaking and dizzy and too overwhelmed, apparently, to notice or care. She focused as much as she could and mumbled another spell. Hopefully it’d be enough. After another few gasps, Joe rolled back over, his eyes flickering shut once more. “Hospital.” He moaned.

“You’ll be okay.” She insisted.

He opened his mouth to protest again but before he could, his body shivered and he passed out once more.

“Fuck.” Anna pressed her fingers under his jaw. Pulse was okay. The last thing she needed was this scrawny white boy dying on her couch. She might’ve been able to drag him in here last night, but she doubted she’d be able to do the same if he died. It was time to swallow her pride and break out the big guns.

* * *

“Hey, Sonia. How are you?” Anna smiled sweetly into the phone.

She could practically hear her cousin’s eyeroll as the woman said “What do you need?”

“Can’t I call just to say hi?”

“No. What do you need?”

Anna huffed, glad to be done with the bullshit. “I’ve got a guy with a serious concussion on my couch. Can’t take him to a hospital. Can’t let him die. Can you help?”

“You still have that white candle with the carvings I gave you?”

“Yes.”

“Bring it to where the man is, light it, and put me on speaker phone.”

* * *

It was easier than Anna imagined it’d be, though she felt weird having her cousin chant on speaker phone while a strange man lay, passed out, on her couch. After, though, she noticed that the grimace on his face relaxed and he breathed a little easier. Blowing the candle out, she took her cousin off speaker and pressed the phone to her ear again. “Thank you, Sonia. I mean it.”

“You owe me.” Her cousin said, matter of fact, before she hung up without even a goodbye.

Anna frowned at her phone and rolled her eyes. “Damn witches.” 

* * *

She felt disgusting from hauling the bloody guy (Joe, she reminded herself) from his wreck, but she wasn’t willing to take a shower with him in her apartment. Instead, she had to compromise and simply be happy with a change of clothes and a quick freshening up. When she emerged from her bedroom, she found him sitting up on the couch, gazing around in confusion. _Damn,_ Sonia was good.

“Hey,” Anna said, pausing in the doorway. “Feeling better?”

Joe rubbed a hand over his face, wincing at the cut and bruises. “Where am I? What happened?” He frowned. “Who are you?”

Anna fought not to roll her eyes. This was what, the fourth time? “My name is Anna Chiwy. You were in a car accident. Now you’re in my home.”

Joe frowned harder. “Accident? What…?” But then his eyes widened and his face went pale. He reached out, scrabbling for the glass of water and he nearly knocked it over.

“Whoa,” Anna said, rushing over to his side. “Calm down. You’re okay.”

“That thing!” Joe screeched, “It…it…!” He made a strange, high-pitched whine in the back of his throat. “It tried to bite me!”

_How the hell did I end up in this situation?_ Anna wondered to herself. She wasn’t this boy’s fairy godmother, and she wasn’t his family. Hell, she still didn’t understand what had pushed her to bring him here. _And now I’ve got to break it to him that there are scary things that go bump in the night._

Anna settled on the chair across from the coffee table and, in her most calming voice, said “It was a ghoul.”

Joe frowned at her. “What the fuck is a ghoul?!” His voice was much higher pitched than she’d imagined.

She sighed, trying to remain patient. “A ghoul is a creature that usually eats the flesh of dead bodies. Sometimes, though, it goes for the living.”

Joe’s mouth dropped open and she could see him preparing to argue, sorting through everything he’d ever been told, ready to protest, and she was prepared for it, which is why it surprised her when he shut his mouth just as quickly. His hands balled into fists at his sides and he narrowed his eyes at her. “That thing crawled into my cab last night.”

“And it tried to eat you. Yes.”

Joe swallowed thickly and raised a hand to his neck where Anna could see some scrapes. “What happened to it?”

“You plowed your cab into a light pole. It flew through the windshield and was decapitated.”

His eyes widened.

“Decapitation will kill a ghoul.” She explained.

Joe snorted. “Decapitation kills everything.”

Anna arched a brow. “Not everything.”

His mouth fell open again, but he was quiet. And then, “Fuck.” He eyed her up and down, more closely this time, assessing. “And so who are you? _What_ are you?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Rude, much?” When he didn’t back off, she huffed and said “As I told you several times before, my name is Anna Chiwy. I found you last night and brought you here. As for _what_ I am, I’m a human, so chill out.”

“Why didn’t you call the cops? Why didn’t you take me to a hospital?” As Joe asked those questions, she could see him eyeing his surroundings with suspicion. He was looking for an exit.

Anna stood and reached for her badge, which lay on the coffee table. She held it up for him to see. “I _am_ a cop.”

“So why ain’t I in a hospital right now?”

“Because ghouls take on the form of another body they’ve eaten. They’re not… _living,_ exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means the body that flew through your windshield last night looked like it had already been dead for at least a week. Which means any cop that showed up to that scene last night would assume you’d killed the guy beforehand. You wanna try explaining what really happened? Good luck. Any other cop would’ve arrested you.”

Joe quirked a brow, appraising her again. “Except you.”

Anna nodded. “Except me.”

He cocked his head and she could see him wince from the pain. “What makes you different?”

She shrugged. “That’s not the first strange thing I’ve ever seen.”

Joe swallowed thickly and she could see him shrugging off the reality of the situation again, rejecting it. “I’ve gotta get home.”

“Not a good idea.”

Joe stood and glowered down at her, eyeing the gun he could see at her hip. “What’re you gonna do? Shoot me? Am I a prisoner now?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic. You’re not a prisoner. But they have records of who was driving that cab last night, right?” She could see the truth begin to register behind his eyes. “They know it was you? They know where you live? There was still a dead body there last night. They’re gonna be looking for you.”

“But you’re a cop!” Joe protested. “You can explain! Or…or…make something up!”

Anna snorted. “And what? Lose my job? They’ll think I’m insane. And even if they believe me, I broke a shit ton of rules last night by bringing you here. I never called it in.”

“What? Why?”

“Did you miss the part where I said they’d arrest you?”

“So what? You don’t know me! What the hell do you care?”

Anna huffed and perched her hands on her hips, glaring up at the scrawny, bruised man. “I don’t know, alright? I don’t know why I did it! But I did, alright?! So now you’re my problem, too, and I don’t plan on losing my career or my freedom over this.”

“So what’re you gonna do? You can’t keep me here.”

Anna was pretty sure that wasn’t true. She had a pair of cuffs with the rest of her work things and she knew that a gag would probably keep him quiet, but frankly, she didn’t enjoy the idea of him here any longer than he had to be. “I’m not gonna do anything, alright. I saved your life. You’re welcome. Do whatever the hell you want now, but don’t count on me backing up your story if you leave here.”

Joe frowned at her, crossing his arms. “What the hell kind of statement is that?” He huffed. He eyed her again, more critical, now. Perhaps more cautiously. Good. “What kind of a cop are you, anyway?”

“The serious kind. This job is too important to me to lose it over you.” She glowered at him and she could see his frame shake again. _Trauma. Shock._ She rolled her eyes. “Sit down before you fall down. You need to eat something.”

Joe frowned, confused. “What?”

But Anna simply rolled her eyes at him, waved to the couch, and retreated to the kitchen to find the poor bastard some soup. She hoped he liked Campbells, because that was all she had.


	5. Ruined Lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picks up where the last chapter left off, still 4 years in the past.

Joe frowned morosely down into his spaghetti-Os. Anna sat across the table from him, fiddling with the handle on her third cup of coffee. She had to force herself to keep from admonishing him again— _she wasn’t his mother._ Still, the words sat, trapped, right behind her teeth. _Eat it before it gets cold._

Joe dropped the spoon again with a soft _splat._ He glanced up at her from under a quirked brow. “So what’s your deal?” He asked. Now that he was awake, his voice and body language screamed _ATTITUDE._ He was around her age—maybe a year or two younger, but he gave off the vibe of a rebellious teenager. 

“What do you mean, my deal?” She twisted the handle in her fingers again and locked her gaze on him, mirroring his expression.

“Your deal. You’re a cop, but like… the kind that drags unconscious dudes back to her house. What’s with that?”

Another wave of annoyance rose in her chest and she had to fight to press it back down. It didn’t help that a nagging voice at the back of her mind also piped up, then, asking _Yeah, Anna, what were you_ thinking? Anna shrugged. “Thought I was saving your life. In more ways than one. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Right.” Joe huffed and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thanks, I guess.” He took an opportunity to glance around her kitchen—it was small and a bit cramped, but it was clean. “You said I can leave any time I want?”

She nodded. “You walk out that door and you’re no longer my problem.”

He snorted. “Seems like I’m a problem you _chose.”_

And damn him, he was right. “Well, you’re welcome to correct my poor choices if you want. But remember what I said. Out there, you’re on your own.”

Joe stared at her defiantly for a moment before he glanced back down at his now cold, congealing spaghetti-Os. “I can’t go home anymore, can I?”

Anna sighed, her heart suddenly heavy. She knew it wasn’t her fault, just one of those vagaries of fate, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit responsible. Maybe because she bore witness. Maybe because she sealed his fate when she pulled him out of that wreck and chose not to call it in. Didn’t matter. He was right. He could never go home again. “Probably shouldn’t. Like I said, they’ll have your information by now, and they’ll be looking for you.”

“So, what? I’m suddenly on the run?!” He shoved the bowl back and stood with a huff. “Fuck that. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was just drivin’ my cab.”

Anna stared up at him: chest heaving, dark eyes narrowed, chin defiant, the wounds making him look dangerous, lean and wiry, taller than Anna. “You can try to fight it, if you want. I don’t know what you could say to explain the body, though. Like I said, it’ll show as having been dead before the crash, and you can’t deny the hole in the windshield. It won’t take a genius to figure out the body was in your cab when you crashed.”

Joe snarled and jerked away from the table. He paced back and forth in her tiny kitchen, his long legs taking up far too much space. He spun, suddenly, and slammed a fist into the wall. It cracked, and he hauled his fist back, hissing at the pain. “ _Damnit,”_ he growled, before spinning back to her. “How the hell can you be so calm about this? A FUCKING DEAD BODY TRIED TO EAT ME LAST NIGHT! And you, what?! Don’t even care? Not surprised?!”

Anna quirked her own brow and finally rose to her feet, the weight of her gun comforting at her hip. “If I didn’t care, I would’ve left you there.”

“Maybe you should’ve.” Joe growled, taking a step toward her. “My life is ruined.”

Anna crossed her arms and stared him down. “You’re alive. And you’re not in cuffs. That’s what I gave you. The rest is up to you.” Still, the anger rose up in her, happy to meet his. She scoffed. “ _Your life is ruined?_ ” She took a step toward him, bringing them close. Joe continued to glower down at her. “Do you know how many ruined lives I see every single day? Join the club. You’re not special.” She poked him in the chest, half-expecting him to lash out at her. He didn’t, though he seethed, chest still heaving. “You get to choose whether this destroys you or not.”

They stood, toe to toe, Joe glaring down at her, muscles quivering (from exhaustion and shock, or rage and the urge to lash out?). Anna held her ground—she came face to face with people and _things_ much worse than him on a daily basis. She watched his struggle, watched the play of emotions behind his eyes as he ground his teeth together and reined himself in. “You said this wasn’t your first.” He said, though the words still sounded a bit like a growl. 

“It wasn’t.”

His eyes flicked from her toes to her head, taking her all in, reassessing. “It ruin your life, too?”

“Yeah.” _Twenty six years of sleepless nights, of the worst fucking nightmares a person could imagine—beyond imagining; the taste of bile in the back of her throat, the sight of blood covering the ground. Horrified. Helpless. Always so helpless, just like every single one of those victims._

“What’d you…?” Joe closed his eyes for a second, grounding himself. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and stared at her once more. “How’d you deal with it?”

“I became a cop.” _To stop it. To fix it. To do whatever she could so that she could sleep at night._

Joe took another deep breath. Rolled his shoulders back. Narrowed his eyes. _Defiant._ “Tell me what’s out there.”

Finally, some of the tension drained from Anna’s shoulders. She met his eyes. In their depths, she saw fear and shock, but also strength. Determination. _Alright._ “Sit down,” she said, waving back toward his chair. “I’ll get you some coffee.”


	6. Meatloaf and Fruity Shampoo

PRESENT

Under the cover of darkness, Joe leaned against the frame and tapped lightly on Anna’s apartment door. Maddie sat patiently at his feet, her eyes fixed on the door. It was as much of a home to her as their car—maybe she didn’t spend as much time here as she did riding shotgun, but there were dog treats in Anna’s cabinet and a dog bed that Anna kept stashed in a closet for her. Anna had moved to a new apartment three years ago, in a better part of town—the perks of being promoted to detective. For the most part, Joe figured it was a good thing—it was bigger and nicer and safer. But it also meant nosier neighbors. At least in Ingleside, no one asked questions when he came around.

A minute later, Anna pulled the door open and Joe smiled tiredly down at her, still awake enough to take in her pink pajama pants and smirk. “Nice pants.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Lieb,” she said, stepping back so that he and Maddie could enter. As soon as they were through the door, she cast a quick glance out and then shut the door. Spinning around, she took him in with a single glance. He watched her clock the gash on his arm, catalogue the bags under his eyes, the scruff, the mud-streaked clothes and boots. Seemingly satisfied that he hadn’t lied on the phone, Anna dropped to her knees and said “Come here, sweetheart.” Wagging her tail wildly, Maddie rushed over to Anna and began licking her neck and face as the woman hugged her. “Awww, Maddie’s such a good girl, isn’t she?” Anna cooed, ruffling Maddie’s fur. “Yes she is, good girl.” Then she pulled a chicken treat out of her pocket and handed it over before leaning back. “You need a bath.” She pronounced. Then she glanced back up at Joe and wrinkled her nose. “So do you. You’re a mess.”

Joe huffed a laugh. “You always say such sweet things to me.” She was right, of course. He looked like he’d gone twelve rounds with a Wendigo…which he had. He hitched his duffle higher up his shoulder. “Mind watching her while I jump in the shower?”

Anna shrugged. “It’s fine. When you’re done, I’ve got some leftovers in the microwave.”

Joe smiled tiredly. “Sounds delicious.” As he moved past Anna toward her bathroom, she snagged his arm and gave him what passed for a side-hug, quick, like she didn’t want to fully commit, or get her pajamas dirty. Still, Joe submitted to the rare show of affection and hugged her back. A moment later, Anna pulled away, Maddie following at her heels, and Joe made his way into the bathroom. He had a date with a long, hot shower, and some of Anna’s fruity shampoo.

After he’d showered (and come out smelling like citrus) and dumped his laundry in the washing machine, Joe made his way to the kitchen where Anna waited comfortably with a cup of coffee and her feet buried in Maddie’s fur. He snorted and rolled his eyes as he achingly made his way over to the microwave to warm his dinner. He’d be offended, if he wasn’t used to this kind of thing. It was impossible to meet Maddie and not love her. And even though Anna pretended to be a hard ass, she’d fallen for the pup just as easily as everyone else. Maybe more so, since she’d known Maddie since she was a puppy. In fact, after he’d found her and decided to keep her, Anna had been the first person he’d introduced her to. He remembered Anna quirking a brow at him, her dark eyes speaking volumes before she bothered saying “You found her in a cemetery? Alone? In the middle of the night?” Her brows inched higher with each word.

Joe had huffed, waving her concern away. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Bad juju and all that shit.”

“It’s not just that….” Anna had murmured, beholding the ball of dark fur in Joe’s arms. 

“What, then?”

Anna had frowned up at him. “Just…keep an eye on her, alright?”

But Anna’s misgivings had been for nothing. Maddie was a good girl. Sure, there was the whole _could sense the supernatural_ thing and the _probably a bit otherworldly herself_ thing, but all in all, nothing to worry about. She was his hunting partner, his best friend, and an all-around good dog. And anyway, Anna had softened to her quickly, as their current pose only served to prove.

The microwave beeped and Joe pulled the plate out, sniffing the brown substance. “Meatloaf?” he asked, shuffling to the table. He lowered himself into the chair with a groan. Goddamn wendigos.

Anna nodded and took a sip of coffee while he dug in eagerly enough that he burnt his tongue. “Shit,” he cursed, breathing around the charred meat. “’s good,” he lied, still grateful for the food, even if Anna wasn’t a very good cook. She was a good detective. He figured that was more important.

“Forensics got back to me about an hour ago. You were right. They were the missing hikers.”

The food formed a lump in his belly and it was suddenly hard to swallow. He forced himself to nod. The confirmation hurt, but at least it meant there weren’t’ even more unaccounted for. “I fucking hate monsters,” Joe growled as soon as he was able to swallow. Anna nodded. They were silent again for a while, until Joe finished the meatloaf and turned his attention to the mashed potatoes. “How are things with you?” He asked, before he shoved a forkful in his mouth.

Anna shrugged. “Another day, another crime. Dirtbag abducted a child.”

Joe frowned, fork half-way to his mouth. “You get the kid back?”

Anna sighed and her shoulders noticeably relaxed. “Yeah. Yeah, this time we did.”

Joe quirked a brow. “One of your special cases?”

Anna nodded. Joe studied her face for a moment. The kid was lucky, then. Sometimes, when Anna dreamed, there was nothing she could do about it. It was already too late by the time she opened her eyes and made it into the station. But sometimes, people were lucky. This time, a kid was found. He knew these cases made all the difference to Anna—he knew this was why she’d become a cop. But he also knew the other cases haunted her. Would _always_ haunt her. He’d learned, over the years, that because Anna often dreamed of the crimes before they happened, she held herself responsible for stopping every single one of them. Didn’t matter that it was impossible—that was just who Anna was.

They didn’t say anything for a while, then, as he finished eating. He simply shoveled the food into his mouth, chewing mechanically while he tried not to think too much about the hunt. And Anna continued to sip her coffee, her toes curling in Maddie’s fur while the dog snored, exhausted from two straight days of movement. 

When he was finished, Joe cleaned up after himself, placing the plate and fork in the dishwasher before leaning back against the counter to observe his friend for a minute. She looked tired. More so than usual. “You alright?” He asked.

Anna nodded, but didn’t elaborate and so he let it go. “How long you staying for?” She asked.

Joe shrugged. “Just the night, I think. I’ve got business I gotta handle tomorrow.”

Anna quirked a brow. “Which of your seedy friends this time?”

Joe rolled his eyes dramatically. “Hey, my seedy friends are _your_ seedy friends.”

Anna scoffed, offended. “They are not.”

“They’re not that bad,” he defended, rolling through their list of names in his mind. “I’ve done worse than most of them.”

A snort. “True.” She pursed her lips. “But you’re my CI, they’re not. So. Which one?”

Joe _almost_ felt bad about throwing him under the bus, but he knew Anna wouldn’t do anything about it. Not really. “Hoobs.”

Anna straightened, pointing a threatening finger at him. “You tell that punk that he better watch who he sells to. If I stumble across one more cursed object that came from his shop, I’m hauling him in, and I won’t give a shit that he’s your friend.”

Joe chuckled, enjoying for a moment the image of petite Anna slapping cuffs on Hoobler and hauling him away in a cruiser. “I’ll keep him on the straight and narrow,” he huffed, “promise.”

Brow still arched disbelievingly, the jabbed her finger at him again. “You better.” She ordered. Then she rose, stretching, and Maddie followed, nuzzling her head into Anna’s middle. “I’m gonna crash. Hit the light when you turn in?”

Joe nodded. “Got it.”

She waved vaguely and he watched her wander toward her room before he flicked the kitchen light off. He swapped his clothes from the washer to the dryer, finished his nightly business, then hauled his tired, aching body to the blue couch that served as his makeshift bed whenever he dropped in on Anna. 

In the dark, Maddie curled up next to the couch and Joe dropped his hand to card through her fur. 

Tomorrow he had to see Hoobler. He’d lost a couple weapons during the wendigo hunt and he wanted them replaced sooner rather than later. Considering that Hoobs owed him more favors than he’d ever be able to repay (not least of all, defending him from Anna), he’d crash at the man’s house while he was at it. It’d been a while since they’d had a chance to catch up, and even though the dealer was a bit shady, he was still one of Joe’s best friends. And he should probably give the _Fortean_ boys a call too, while he was in town. See if they had any leads for him. 

If there was anything Joe hated, it was being idle. He couldn’t stand it. He needed to hunt. Always. When he wasn’t on a hunt, well…then he’d get restless. And Joe had always known, since before his parents had shipped him off to military school, that if he couldn’t find himself some trouble, he’d do perfectly fine creating some. In the hunting world, that tended not to work out so well. Besides, he needed to behave himself at least a little bit, for Anna’s sake. As her primary confidential informant, he had a certain degree of protection, but there was only so much she could cover him for. And over the years, he’d pushed it a few times. 

He smirked slightly, thinking about how far they’d come in the four years they’d known each other. She’d gone from the irritable police officer who’d simultaneously ruined and saved his life to his best human friend, his most trusted confidant, the sister he’d never known he wanted. He knew that if he ever said it to her face, she’d probably whack him, but the evidence was all around them: the couch that practically had his name on it, the dog treats stashed in Anna’s cupboard, her name on his speed dial. He remembered a time when he’d resented her, a time when he’d been so restless and desperate, he could’ve gone down a much different road. It was Anna who told him about the things that went bump in the dark. Anna that (eventually) told him about herself and the nightmares that plagued her. Anna who had dreamed up the solution to their problems.

It was the perfect partnership. Anna was a detective who had premonitions of crimes. She spent her days trying to stop or solve them. But for some reason, she never dreamed of or sensed the supernatural. Joe, as a hunter, helped her with that. He pointed her in the right direction, provided her with leads, and handled things when she couldn’t. In return, she looked the other way when he bent or broke laws to finish a hunt, ignored his fraudulent credit cards, and occasionally cleaned up his messes. Most hunters spent their lives dodging the law while they fought to keep the world safe. He was lucky enough that she had his back. And in return, he helped her to keep her streets safe. Yep. The perfect partnership.

Or at least…one of them.

Joe’s fingers stilled, just for a moment, before he continued to pet Maddie. He was a lucky guy, really, to have two perfect partners. And she _was_ perfect, his dog. Not only was she fun, energetic, and loyal, but she was also a damn good hunter in her own right. Joe tried not to think too deeply about it, but there was definitely something different about Maddie. He couldn’t count the number of times she’d saved him, but she kept doing it, and he knew she always would. So he loved her and protected her too. She was his hunting partner, his best friend, his constant companion.

As he lay on the couch, willing his muscles to relax enough that he could sleep, he reviewed the wendigo hunt again. He and Maddie, stalking the creature through the forest for two days, the creature stalking them in return. Maddie’s hackles rising, sensing the creature before it attacked them. Her jaws sinking into the wendigo’s leg, hamstringing it. Joe, torching the sucker. He huffed a breath, shifting restlessly, his muscles still pulled tight. “Should’ve popped some ibuprofen before I got comfortable,” he grumbled to himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up again so he’d just have to deal with it.

Whatever. Another day, another hunt. 

At least he was alive, and so were the people he cared about.

Fucking monsters.


	7. Blowing Off Steam

Present

Historically, there were two reasons that Joe liked to hang out at Hoob’s. The first was all business: Hoobler ran a one-stop hunter shop. Here, he could pick up a couple sawed-offs, load up on silver and rock salt, haggle for mystical pendants, and peruse an eclectic collection of supernatural objects. The second was all pleasure, or rather—necessity. When Joe was at Anna’s, he had to be on his best behavior. Not least because she was a cop and wouldn’t hesitate to throw him in cuffs if he annoyed her enough, but mostly because she was a genuinely good woman. And while Joe would never say Hoobler was a bad person, he knew his friend was more of a realist when it came to human wants and needs. 

Basically, Joe went to Hoobler’s when he needed to get out to a bar and pick someone up. Hoobler didn’t judge. In fact, he encouraged. “You deserve to relax a bit, man,” he’d say. “The life of a hunter is a tough one and you make your life harder than it has to be on the best days.”

“Hey, watch it,” Joe would retort, but only half-heartedly, because Hoob was right. His fraught, turbulent teenage years and his stint at a military school spoke to that. So did his dropping out and “losing” his parents’ numbers. 

The thing was, Hoobler didn’t judge. Joe didn’t feel the need to try to be a “better” person when he hung out with the guy. Maybe it was because Hoobler was so laid back. Maybe it was because he also dealt in illegal supernatural artifacts and weapons. Either way, when Joe went out at night and came back hours later smelling like smoke, booze, and perfume, Hoobler didn’t say shit except to give him a smirk and a thumbs up. Plus, Hoobler loved Maddie, though to be fair, so did everyone else who met her. But it was still a comfort for Joe to know that while he was out satisfying some of his more base needs, Maddie was comfortable at a friend’s house, being spoiled, sitting on the couch next to his friend while he watched hours of Netflix.

However, over the years, lessons had been learned, on both their parts. The first lesson had been Hoob’s. He’d smirked when Joe said he needed a hookup and quipped about how it shouldn’t be a problem with a girl like Anna just a phone call away. It was the only time Joe had ever punched Hoobler, but the message had come across loud and clear. Now Hoobler only made sidelong comments about getting Anna’s number, but Joe knew he didn’t mean anything by it. Especially since Anna was always just one smirk away from hauling Hoobler into the station in cuffs. In fact, Joe knew it was something she dreamed of quite often. It’d make her day. 

The second lesson had been Hoobler’s too. The lesson was this: Maddie was well behaved for the people she respected, but if she thought you were a pushover, she _would_ steal your food while you weren’t looking. She’d been able to steal Hoobler’s dinner on two occasions before he learned to keep the food out of her reach. 

The third and fourth lessons, though, the hardest, were Joe’s to learn. The first lesson—when Maddie wanted to go somewhere, you should let her. The second—hookups should happen AT the bar, not at a secondary location. 

Basically what happened was this: A year ago, Joe, itchy to get laid after almost 3 months of _nothing,_ had patted Maddie on the head and told her to be a good girl while he’d waved at Hoobler and traveled 3 blocks to a busy enough bar to promise a hookup, so long as he wasn’t too picky (which he hadn’t been.)

He’d only been at the bar for twenty minutes when an absolutely beautiful woman (dark hair, dark eyes, sultry lips) had sidled up next to him and begun flirting. Blinded by lust and eagerness, Joe had flirted back until she’d suggested going back to her place for a bit. 

Of course, Joe had gone.

He’d been naked, splayed out on the bed, ready to go when a horrendous growl rent the air and then the door splintered and collapsed under Maddie’s weight. A moment later, she’d tackled the woman to the floor and pinned her there. The shock had been enough for the siren (OF COURSE SHE WAS A SIREN!) to drop the façade and enable Joe to see the monster within. After that, he’d dispatched her quickly, grabbed his things and Maddie, and got the hell out of there.

Back at Hoobler’s, the man had been wringing his hands nervously, and at the first sign of Joe and Maddie, he’d gasped “Oh my god, there she is! Dude, I’m so sorry! She just freaked out and wouldn’t calm down. I tried to lock her up, but she busted out of here. I don’t know what happened.”

Joe had shrugged, saying “She just saved my life. Next time if she wants out, let her out.”

They hadn’t said anything else about it, but Hoobler had never looked at her the same way, and Joe had lain awake for the next couple nights, thinking about what had happened. He knew that dogs were pretty perceptive, and he’d heard stories of dogs finding their way home and stuff like that, but the stunt Maddie had pulled was next level. It had forced him to think back to Anna’s initial warning about finding a puppy all alone in a graveyard. And yet, when he started to worry about it, he glanced down to where Maddie lay at his side, her head pillowed on his belly, and he knew that whatever she was, whatever he’d done to deserve her, he wasn’t gonna question it anymore because she was the best thing to happen to him. 

But that was a year ago. Now was different. Now Joe didn’t go home with anyone that he didn’t already know and trust, which meant Hoobs or Anna, and he tried to minimize his time away from Maddie. He reached down and scratched her ears at the thought. She turned to look up at him, her tongue lolling out of her mouth happily. “You’re a good girl, Maddie. Yes you are. The best.” He pulled one of her chews from his pocket and handed it over. She took it delicately and, wagging her tail, trotted over to the window to chew it in the sunshine. 

“You want a beer?” Hoobler asked, standing from his seat on the couch.

“Sure, man, thanks. I gotta make a call real quick, though.”

Hoobler waved him off. “No problem.”

Joe smirked at the name on the contact list for a minute before hitting “call.” 

“Fortean,” chirped a happy voice, “Gordon speaking.”

“Smokey!” Joe greeted, “How’s it going at the Batcave, man?”

A sigh came over the line. “Hey, Joe,” Smokey greeted, though a bit less enthusiastically than before. “What’s up?”

“I heard you boys acquired yourself a llama. Is that right?”

“ _What?_ ” Smokey yelped, “How’d you hear about that?” 

Joe snorted. “I have my sources, you know.”

Another beleaguered sigh. “Tim is an _alpaca_ , not a llama.”

“My bad,” Joe snickered. “So, besides the llama, how are things? You boys ever get in touch with the hunters I recommended?”

“Things are good. And yeah, I did. Bull was friendly and helpful, though his partner is a bit of an asshole. He called me ‘peanut,’ whatever the hell that means.”

Joe smirked. Yeah, he could see that. He’d had a similar opinion of Johnny when he’d run into them, but he knew that they were part of a vast hunter network with resources that Joe didn’t have. “Good. They gonna help you guys out?”

“Yeah, and we’re gonna keep them in the loop, like you suggested.”

Joe smiled in satisfaction. “Good. So. Got any cases you need me to follow up on?”

“Nah, nothing new right now. But we’ll keep you posted.”

“Alright, then. You boys behave yourselves, you hear?”

“Shut up, Joe.” Smokey snarked, and then the line went dead.

A moment later, Hoobler returned with a beer clutched in each hand. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Joe popped the top on the beer and took a deep gulp. 

Hoobler flicked on his police scanner before lounging on the couch again. The room immediately filled with static and short conversations. “So,” Hoobler began, pitching his voice over the others, “Any plans for the night?”

“You know,” Joe said, gulping from the beer, “probably go out for a bit.”

“Right.” Hoobler nodded. “Guess me and Maddie will hang out some more. I’ve got a nice, tasty treat for her in the fridge.”

Joe rolled his eyes but smiled, happy that his friends loved his dog too. “And I’m sure she’ll love it.”

Joe had just closed his eyes, allowing himself to think about his plans for the evening, enjoying a lull in the chatter, when the scanner blared to life again, a calm female voice informing “Reports of a 187 under the overpass near 49th. Units respond.”

Across from him, Hoobler whistled under his breath. “Well, that sucks.”

Joe snorted. “You think?”


	8. An Artful Arrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new baddie rears its head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for graphic descriptions of crime scenes and some creepy stuff. Heed the tags.

Present

Anna climbed out of her dark SUV and pulled her shades off, folding them into her front pocket. Squad cars, lights still glaring, sat hunched around the underpass. Uniformed officers busied themselves stretching caution tape around the scene and avoiding her eyes. One of them hurried past her, clutching his belly, and spewed into the bushes just beyond her vehicle. “Make sure he cleans that up,” she commented to another patrolman. She scanned the scene for her partner, Detective Gillian Gutierrez, who’d arrived before her. The call had been brief but succinct, the way her partner was. _Definite homicide. It’s a mess. Get here quick._

Squaring her shoulders, Anna pushed her way through the gathered officers to survey exactly what had rattled Gutierrez. The body of a young woman lay in the dirt under the overpass, neatly arranged, with legs together and arms laying loose at her sides. Her sundress, a radiant blue, was intact, free of tears or smudges. Her golden hair, tied in a ribbon, lay at her shoulder, soaked and tacky at the ends from the puddle of rust colored blood that pooled from her slit throat. It ringed her shoulders and head, a macabre inverse halo. Someone had painted dark runes into a circle around the body, interspersed with puddles of melted wax and the remaining stubs of votive candles. 

Anna beheld the scene and willed herself to feel sick, willed her stomach to turn or her fingers to tingle with anxiety. She prayed for a headache, for nausea, for a pounding heart. But as she stared down at the dead girl, all she felt was calm. A blank, numbing calm, and that terrified her more than anything, because after so many years, she knew what it meant. She felt the word like a shiver up her spine as it whispered in the back of her mind. _Monster._ And not the human kind, either.

When she finally glanced up from the scene, her eyes caught with her partner’s, where Gutierrez was conferring with another officer, presumably the first one on the scene. In Gutierrez’s gaze, she caught _long, sleepless nights, too much coffee, some alcohol too, tears, nightmares._ Undoubtedly, she was right. But she was missing something, too. Anna cocked her head and flicked her eyes over the body once more. Careful arrangement. Runes. Candles. This was a ritual. Which meant it probably wasn’t the only one. And if they hadn’t found any other murders like this one yet, it meant there were going to be more.

A young officer sidled up to her shoulder, a notepad in hand. “Detective. Anything I can do?”

Anna turned to her, shaking herself from her revelation. “Just secure the scene. I’ve got to make a call.” She retreated to her SUV once more, ducked behind it, and pulled her phone from her pocket. She barely had to glance at the screen to dial the number she wanted. Pressing the phone to her ear, she waited again for the wave of nausea and the jitters that never came. 

“Hey.”

“Lieb, are you still in town?” Anna asked, eyes shut tight against the vision that she knew would be burned behind her eyelids for a long time to come.

“Yeah. What’s up?”

Her voice was tense, ragged with the force of holding back her fear. “I need you.”

His response was instant: alert, concerned. “Where are you?”

“On scene. Can you meet me at my place in three hours?”

“I’ll be there. Be careful, alright?”

Anna nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see her. “I will.”

* * *

Joe arrived at the apartment before Anna, so he used his key and pulled Maddie inside behind him. He maneuvered into her kitchen and set his bag of Chinese takeout onto the kitchen table, digging plates and forks from her cabinets. He was just pulling a couple beers from her fridge when he heard the front door bang open. Maddie growled, stalking toward the door and he followed behind her, gun drawn, but shoved it back in its holster, cursing when he saw the cause of the sound.

Anna leaned against the door, slumped over, as though weighed down, though she only carried a single messenger bag over her shoulder. “Shit,” Joe hissed, leaping forward to grab her and haul her up. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His hands fluttered over her, checking her for wounds, but he couldn’t find any. She sighed, forehead thumping softly against his chest and he froze, shocked for a minute, before he tightened his arms around her. “Alright, come on. Let’s sit down.” He kicked the door shut behind her and led her over to the blue couch that she loved so much. “Hey,” he said, hands rubbing soothingly at her arms. “Hey, talk to me, Anna. What is it? What happened?”

“In the bag,” she whispered, shivering.

Joe pulled the bag off her shoulder and dug through it to find a file that she’d obviously taken from work. Not waiting for further instructions, he flipped it open and pulled up short, breath kicking out of him at the grisly crime scene photo that sat on top of the stack—a close up of a young woman, her yellow hair matted with blood from her slit throat. He paged through the stack, taking in the full scene. When he got to a close up of the runes, he frowned, thumb brushing over the glossy paper. “What is this?”

“The captain is calling it a ritual murder,” Anna said, voice thick with barely held emotion. “Me and Gutierrez caught the case.” She shook her head. “I’m scared, Lieb.” And now she met his eyes. Hers, dark honey, were glazed with sorrow and worry. 

“Okay,” Lieb said, setting the file aside so he could wrap his arm around her. When she didn’t shrug him off, he frowned harder. “It’s terrible, it is, but this is what you do, Anna. You go out and you find the sick fucks who do stuff like this. You’ll get this guy, too.”

Anna shook her head. “I didn’t see it coming. And this,” she waved her hand at the file, “rituals like this—they’re not usually singular cases.”

“Guy’s a serial killer.” Joe surmised. “Is that why you’re scared? Or are you afraid because you didn’t see it? Anna, you’re the best damn detective I know. You’ll find the guy.”

Anna laughed, but the sound came out wrong. “Lieb.” She reached for him, shaking her head. “When I went to the scene…I felt nothing.” Another broken laugh. “Nothing. Not a damn thing.”

Joe stared at her, finally understanding. A finger of ice slid down his spine and he had to fight off a shiver. “That’s why you called me.”

Anna nodded. “Gutierrez and I made some headway, but you know I can’t talk to her about everything the way I can you.”

“Right.” Joe nodded. “Okay. We’ll get to that, but first things first—are you _okay_?”

She shivered, glancing toward the file. “I will be.”

“Alright. Then here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna go grab a nice, long shower, and I’ll dish up the Chinese takeout I brought. We’ll eat, have a beer, and watch some shitty television, and then we can go over the case, starting from the top.” She frowned, probably readying a protest, but Joe simply shook his head. “Nope. None of that. Go shower. Maddie and I will hold down the fort.” And Joe watched, a strange, protective fire warming his belly, as Anna made her way toward her room.

* * *

After her shower and some food, Anna felt so much better she almost felt ashamed of how needy she’d been before—allowing Lieb to hold her and feed her, sitting next to him in pjs as they watched “Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives” for an hour. But she knew that it was an honest reaction to what she’d seen and felt ( _not felt!_ ) at the crime scene. She was okay now, though, better…and Lieb was right. This was what she _did._ Why she’d first become a cop. To stop the bad things from happening and to catch the monsters that committed these crimes.

They sat at the kitchen table now, the glossy crime scene photos spread out in front of them. Lieb thumbed the one with the runes before dropping it back to the table and giving her his full attention. “So, tell me.”

Anna cleared her throat. “We’re still waiting on forensics, but there was no sign of a sexual assault. The victim appeared to be unblemished with the exception of the cut across her throat. We ran her prints and were able to identify her. Sable Harrington, 24. She was a preschool teacher.”

“Any other prints? Fibers, hairs?”

“Forensics will have all of that. Hopefully tomorrow.” Anna shook her head. “I’m hoping they found something, but the scene looked…clean…to me. The body was almost…artfully arranged.”

“Any ideas about the markings?”

Anna shook her head. “They’re runes. I recognize them, but I don’t know what they mean. I was hoping you’d be able to help me with that.”

Lieb frowned at her. “I don’t know shit about magic, Anna. That’s more your side of things.”

“Not this kind,” Anna murmured.

“You know anything about it?”

Anna snorted. “Well, judging from the dead woman in the middle of it, I’m gonna guess it’s nothing good.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “Fair enough.” He kicked her ankle under the table. “Smartass.”

“What could do this, Lieb?” Anna asked, voice serious again.

Joe shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d say a witch.”

Anna nodded. “Yeah, but what else? I want a list of whatever _could’ve_ done this.”

“Alright. We’ll start making a list. You want me to make some calls?”

Anna hesitated for a moment, unsure how much of the case to share with strangers. “Yeah. Do that. Don’t give them the details, just…an impression.”

“Alright. I’ll do that. But, uh…can I make a suggestion?”

“Nothing’s ever stopped you before,” Anna drawled.

Joe snorted. “True that.” He pointed at her. “Your cousin. Call her. She might know what the runes mean.”

“Yeah.” Anna frowned down at the photo again. She and her cousin hadn’t exactly spoken much in the last few years. Not since she’d asked for help rescuing a random man she’d pulled off the side of the road. She averted her eyes from Lieb. This was important though. Surely her cousin would help.

* * *

That night, as Anna lay in her bed, the blankets clutched in her hands, she found herself afraid to fall asleep. Afraid of what she might see. Afraid of what she wouldn’t. She’d never admit it out loud, but it made her feel better to know that Lieb and Maddie were just down the hall, camped out in her living room. Anna could never regret the life she lived—she’d chosen this. All of her decisions, from childhood ‘til now, had led her here. She’d _chosen_ this. But that knowledge didn’t keep her from feeling the long, bitter stretch of loneliness on nights like this. But not tonight. Tonight, she wasn’t alone.

* * *

Joe lay back on the couch, one arm propped under his head, the other flipping through his contact list in search of whoever might be able to help Anna with her case. There were a couple he could think of, but both would come with questions that he probably wouldn’t be able to answer. “Fuck it,” Joe growled, pressing the _call_ button. 

“ _Fortean,”_ a tired voice drawled, “Gordon speaking.”

“Smokey,” Joe barked, “I got a research question for you.”

“Joe?” Smokey asked, “what the hell man, it’s late.”

“Yeah, and you’re still up, so what about it?” He rolled his eyes. “Come on, I know you guys love your research. Wanna help a guy out?”

“Yeah, okay. Fine. What is it?”

“How much do you know about runes, huh?”

“Runes?” The phone was muffled for a moment, and then Smokey was back, saying “ _I_ don’t know much, but Pat says he knows a little bit. We can do some research and put together a file for you, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. And uh, put a rush on it, alright? Hot case here.”

“Yeah, sure thing, man. I’ll call you when we’ve got it.”

“Thanks.” Joe ended the call then studied the other contact for a lot longer. How many unanswered questions would they tolerate? How badly did he and Anna need the help? And would they remember that Joe had done them a favor last time? They owed him one. 

Before he could think too much more about it, he pressed the button and waited. A moment later, a deep, smooth voice with a country twang picked up, answering “Liebgott. How can I help you?”

“Bull. I have a favor I need to call in.”

“Alright. Lay it on me.”

“I need information about runes. Runic magic.”

“I can ask through the network. I’m sure we can find something. What’s it about?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Alright. You have a description of the specific runes? A picture? Anything like that?”

Joe sighed. “Uh…not that I can share. Sorry, man, it’s uh… well, law enforcement’s got me jammed up at the moment. Can’t exactly share.”

Bull hummed. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve all been there. Ain’t we, Johnny?” He asked to the side. 

From across the line, Joe heard a muffled: “Fuckin’ cops _always_ mess things up.”

Joe rolled his eyes. Then Bull was back, saying “Can’t promise how good the information’ll be, without the specifics, but I’ll ask around.”

“Thanks. And, uh…I know I’m pushing it here, but the faster the better, alright?”

“Put a rush on it. Got it. I’ll call you when I know something.”

“Thanks.”

“Yep.”

Joe ended the call and tossed his phone onto the coffee table. Beside him, Maddie whined, pressing her head to his side. “Hey girl,” Joe cooed, “it’s alright. I got ya.” He ran his fingers through her fur and she let out a contented whuff as she settled. “Yep, might as well get comfortable.” Joe said. “We’ll be hanging around for a few days, I think.” 

And as he stared into the dark, he saw again Anna’s stricken face, the shake in her hands as she slumped against the door. The nervous look in her eyes when it had been time to sleep. Joe clenched his jaw. _Yeah,_ they weren’t going anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember, dear readers, comments are love, so please let me know what you thought! Also, feel free to come say hi on tumblr. I'm @realhunterswearplaid. :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

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